Fun Roadtrip Times
by lenzbians
Summary: I feel bad, and you should feel bad too.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"So, why the hell am I here for this?" Ymir asked, leaning forward and poking at Marco's shoulder.  
"Because I'm here, of course," Christa answered her. Ymir nodded, accepting this as a plausible answer.  
"And why are you here?" Ymir stopped poking Marco, then turned and started poking Christa.  
"Because I thought it'd be fun."  
"What's fun about spending an entire week with one semi-nice person-"  
"Hey," Marco cut in, but Ymir continued anyway.  
"-and one douchebag?" Jean shrugged in the passenger seat, not denying anything. Christa thought on it for a moment, then answered,  
"Because it's a good bonding exercise."  
"That's gay, Christa. Really gay."  
"So you're saying you're not?"  
"Touché."  
Ymir sat back into her seat, looking out the window of the truck they were currently riding through the middle of nowhere in. "Why are you doing this in the first place? I forgot."  
"Ymir, take a look behind us," Marco said, and Ymir did so. She saw the car on the trailer behind them, and let out a loud 'Ohhhhh'. "Yeah. We've got to get that car to my cousin in Washington by Saturday."  
"We're gonna see the president?"  
"No, Ymir, we're going to Washington the state, not Washington D.C."  
"Isn't that where Washington D.C is?"  
"No."  
"That blows."  
"Yes it does."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

After driving for about three hours in peaceful, glorious silence, Jean did something stupid. He leaned over and whispered to Marco, "Hey, you think we'll be getting a show anytime soon?" He jerked a thumb towards the back seat. Marco's face turned a bright shade of red, but he focused on the road instead of answering Jean.

Ymir heard the word 'show', and saw Jean gesture towards the back seat. She leaned forward and slugged Jean in the arm, making Jean whine like a little bitch, which was the intended effect. Jean turned and showed off his impressive vocabulary of words not to be repeated in front of children to Ymir, and she flipped him the bird.

Marco decided that he'd had enough and took one hand off of the steering wheel to grab a spray bottle from under his seat. He sprayed Jean and Ymir, somehow managing to keep his eyes on the road. Jean and Ymir swore simultaneously, and sank back into their seats, trying to dry their faces off.

Marco wondered where Christa had been during all this, so he snuck a glance in the rear-view mirror, seeing her asleep with her face pressed against the window. He sighed and continued driving.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Marco was glad when it got darker, not because of the decreased visibility, but because everyone else had fallen asleep. Christa had been the first to fall asleep. She had woken up after her previous nap, only to fall asleep again after talking to Ymir for a few minutes. Ymir had fallen asleep shortly after that with her forehead pressed against her own window. Jean had curled up into a ball as best he could in the confines of his seat belt, and falling asleep.

This gave Marco time to think to himself. He made tiny comments to himself, like Jean being the loudest snorer, Ymir being the cutest while asleep (the peaceful look on her face visibly lessened the wrinkles that came with the stress constantly on her shoulders), and Christa's constant whispering in her sleep. He couldn't hear anything clearly, so he gave up trying to eavesdrop after a few minutes.

He wondered if he had any sleeping quirks nowadays. His mom had told him that when he was younger he danced in his sleep, but he doubted this was true. He shrugged mentally. He would talk to Jean about it whenever he woke up.

'Yeah,' Marco thought to himself. 'Waking up sure would be nice.' It took his sleep-deprived mind a few seconds to realize what he'd just thought. He mentally shrugged again. He'd find out when he woke up. Then he nodded off to sleep and drove the car into a ditch.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Marco stood outside the passenger side door of the truck, looking at the busted tire, wiping a few drops of blood from above his eyebrow. It was nothing terrible. Just a little bump (he thought), just a little scrape (he thought), and just a flat tire (he hoped). There was a spare in the trunk of the car. He'd get Jean to help him with it, because Ymir was busy comforting Christa, who had slammed her arm against the door during the accident. Thankfully, nobody had whiplash, and only he and Christa had been injured.

He roused himself from his thoughts, tapping Jean's window and motioning towards the car on the trailer. Jean got the idea and got out, following Marco to the trunk. As they closed in on the trunk, they heard racking coughs and a mumbles conversation. Marco looked at Jean questioningly, and his friend shrugged.

Marco popped open the trunk and looked inside, just as a huge cloud of suspicious smoke drifted out. When the smoke cleared, Marco looked inside, seeing a familiar and stoutly blonde, along with a familiar dark-haired, lanky teenager.

"Reiner, Bert? What are you guys doing here?"

"We hitched a rude, dude," Reiner answered. Bert seemed too busy poking at the remaining wisps of smoke.

"Jesus Christ, are you guys high?"

"Bert got it bad, dude. We smoked some knock-off crap, and he hasn't said a word for a solid four hours, man."

"What about you? Why aren't you tripping balls?"

"I've built up a communi-, a fummoon-, an immu-, shit, dude. Words are fucking hard."

"An immunity?"

"Yeah, dude, that." Reiner took a drag of something that Marco couldn't describe properly.

Marco thought that was weird. He knew exactly what it was. Why couldn't he describe it? Maybe it was just too blurry. Yeah, things were starting to get blurry. And red. Red?

"That's funny," Marco whispered, just as his eyes fluttered close and he dropped like a brick onto the asphalt of the road.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Give it to me straight, doc, is Martha gonna die in there?" Reiner asked, grabbing onto a random passerby's shirt.

"Get off me, weirdo!" The passerby slapped Reiner's hands away, and continued walking. Reiner turned to Bert, tears in his eyes.

"I knew it, Bert! Martini's gonna die!"

Jean sighed. He didn't know why they'd brought Reiner and Bert into the hospital, or why the hospital patrons had allowed them in. They'd scuttled Marco and Christa to the nearest hospital (which was only a few miles away) after replacing the flat tire, and they'd been waiting for only a few minutes.

Reiner was now crying with his head on Bertholdt's shoulder, but Bert was too busy poking at the painted butterflies on the walls to comfort his friend. Ymir was sitting beside Jean, chewing her knuckle absent-mindedly. She was clearly stressed out, more-so that usual, so Jean hadn't bothered trying to make conversation with her. Reiner was too busy sobbing and forgetting Marco's name to converse with, and he hadn't been lying about Bert not talking. The taller boy hadn't said anything. It was kind of unsettling.

Jean, lost in his thoughts, didn't see the doctor approach. Ymir, however did.

"What's the problem, doctor?" She asked.

The doctor wearily smiled at her. "Your friends are doing just fine. The smaller one, Miss Lenz, is doing surprisingly well. A clean break, and the bone didn't get too far off line. She'll be fine in less than a few weeks, one or two at most. Your freckled friend, however... Well, he'll be fine too, soon enough. He doesn't appear to have any lasting brain damage, but that hit sure was a doozy. He'll be fine, but he shouldn't be operating any vehicles, nor should he be left unsupervised for any period of time. He should recover a short while after your other friend, if not sooner. We expect full recoveries for the both of them."

The doctor finished with a smile, and when he gave the good news, Ymir and Jean sighed in relief. Reiner, only now noticing that the doctor was there, dropped to his knees and shuffled over to the doctor, grabbing his pants leg.

"Lay it on me, Doc. How long do they have?" Reiner stopped to wipe his nose on the poor doctor's pants leg, then continued. "Can we see them before they die? Are they leaving us any money?"

The doctor jerked his leg away with a look of disgust, then walked away, yelling for someone to 'get that guy some coffee.'


End file.
